Illicit Activity
by WordRunner
Summary: After a fight with Ana, Christian runs to Lucy. Note: This is a one-shot deleted scene from my story Back to Us, in which Christian cheats on his wife. Extended note inside.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the 50 Shades trilogy. That honor lies solely with E.L. James.**

**A/N: This one-shot is a deleted scene from my story _Back to Us_, in which Christian has an affair. For those following my story, this is the scene some of you wanted to read. I figured this way was easier than a dozen or more PMs. I promised to warn you when and if I posted this, so this is your warning. If you are not a fan of Christian-cheats stories, you may want to hit the back button right now, because that is exactly what happens in the below scene. For those reading, but not following _Back to __Us_, please feel free to check out the story for more background. Reviews are always welcome, but please, no flames. I get enough of those for the main story.  
**

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

I practically fly out of the house, slamming the door behind me to block out my wife's continued screaming. My blood is boiling and I see only red as I make my way towards my car. One of the newer security team members pops his head out of the little shack that's on the far side of the garage to see what all the noise is about—no doubt they've been getting an eyeful on the cameras as Ana and I spent the last hour and a half arguing—and he actually has the nerve to ask if I need to be driven.

I shout something at him, most of the words are faint, even to my own ears, but I know I end it with telling him his employment has been terminated and if I see him when I get back, he'll regret it. It may be unfair to fire somebody for attempting to do his job like this kid obviously is, but unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong fucking time to try and be helpful. Without further hesitation, I wrench open my car door, climb in, and slam it shut behind me. For the briefest of moments, it occurs to me that I'm probably not in the best condition to drive, but as I look back at my house, knowing my wife is inside, just waiting for my return in order to continue our fight, I switch on the ignition and take off down the driveway.

Tonight's fight was as pointless as the rest of them have been over the last few weeks. It started out over dinner with her telling me once again she wants to return to Grey Publishing. I'd raised an eyebrow and continued eating my mashed potatoes without responding. I didn't think there was anything more to say; we've have this argument a million times since Teddy was born—she wants to go back to work, but she wants to try for another baby; she wants me to cut back on my hours at GEH so our son has one of his parents with him as often as possible. The argument comes from her belief that I can just let my work fall to the wayside so she can go play editor for a few hours a week. She doesn't realize how important my work is, that it's our livelihood. Sure, I've got enough money and investments that we wouldn't be close to starving if I needed to take some time off, but I need her to understand how important it is for me to have something to pass down to my son when he's old enough. I want my company to survive for generations after I'm gone, to ensure no member of my family ever goes hungry or has to suffer through poverty.

There really isn't anything I hate more than fighting with my wife. I feel like a piece of shit whenever I see her reduced to tears because of something I've said or done, but she can be so stubborn and so maddening that I can't keep my temper in line. Of course I have to remind myself that she doesn't know the worst of what I'm doing to her. I know it will destroy her if she ever finds out; I just can't let her find out. Part of me thinks I need to stop what I'm doing and stay at home with my wife and son. And there are days when I do manage to talk myself out of the plans I've made to do just that. But there are other days when we wake up feeling hostile towards each other, and even though I hadn't planned on running out on my wife, I see no other option. If I were to stay at home, it would only make things worse...

That's what is happening right now. I needed to separate myself from my wife or everything would only escalate. During the drive to Lucy's, I feel myself relaxing for the first time in hours. I know once I walk into her apartment, she'll make me forget about everything, and I long for that feeling of being able to lose myself inside her.

I don't know what it was that drew me to her in the first place. Well, I do: she's a petite, brown-haired woman with light blue eyes, and she reminded me of Ana. I never considered making her a submissive—she wouldn't be into that anyway. She's smart, she's funny, she's got a smart mouth on her that rivals Ana's. She's always ready for me, just like Ana, and her level of stamina is almost mind-blowing. Just like Ana, she wanted to be able to touch me in the way only Ana had ever done before her. I don't know why I agreed to letting her touch me, but I know it felt amazing to have that connection with another human being. In the back of my mind, I know if it hadn't been for Ana, it would still be beyond painful and traumatizing to be touched. I think at first this relationship with Lucy was a challenge to see how far I could push myself and I still haven't quite reached my limits yet, so I keep going back for more.

Lucy understands about Ana. She knows I still love my wife more than anything, but she also realizes my level of being _in love_ with my wife seems to have diminished over the years. I've never told Lucy that I would consider leaving Ana for her, and I honestly don't know that I ever would. I've certainly spent quite a while daydreaming about the possibility. For so long, I believed Anastasia was my one and only, that it wasn't possible for me to feel the way I felt with her with another woman. Then I met Lucy. It confused me at first, how I could feel so strongly for a woman that wasn't my wife. But I did, and I do, and it makes me wonder if Ana really _is_ my one and only.

Perhaps I met Ana so that I could eventually find Lucy...

The rest of the drive goes relatively quickly and before I know it, I'm pulling into the garage of Lucy's building. She's done pretty well for herself. After graduating from Harvard with a business degree, only a year after me apparently, she travelled the world for a few years, trying to figure out what it was she wanted to do with her life. Eventually she founded a non-profit organization here in Seattle that works with troubled youth. Over the years, she's made quite the name for herself and is part of some pretty elite inner circles in the community. In fact, a couple years ago, my parents threw a benefit for her organization that Ana and I both attended. I don't recall having actually met Lucy that night, and back then, I wouldn't have given her a second look anyway, but as it turns out, it really is a small world...

I'm at her apartment door now, practically jumping out of my skin in anticipation of what I know is to come. Before she gets to the door, I'm already hard. Having not expected me tonight, she's wearing her pajamas, which is perfectly fine for me—they consist of a paper thin silk tank top and short silk shorts and over the top is a matching black robe. I might be annoyed about her lack of dress when answering the door, but the smile on her face tells me she checked through the peephole before opening said door.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," she purrs, leaning against the open door.

I can't help but smile back. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," I say in a husky tone.

She shakes her head slowly, biting her lip, and looking up at me through her long eyelashes. "Even if you were, I wouldn't turn you away," she tells me. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby," I groan, letting her pull me into the apartment. I wait only until the door is shut before crushing my lips against hers and kissing her for all I'm worth. Her hands move all over my chest, then up into my hair as I press her against the wall, grinding my hips into hers. "Wrap your legs around me, baby. I need you..."

She moans as she complies and I lift her off her feet, burying my face in between her perfect breasts. She smells heavenly, or perhaps devilishly. Whatever it is, I can't get enough of it or of her. One hand is beneath her ass, holding her up, while the other reaches down between us to unbutton and unzips my pants, pushing them down from my hips. Lucy is working her own hips, desperate to feel me and I don't have it in me to hold back tonight. With my free hand, I move between her legs, shoving aside her lacy panties and immediately feel how incredibly soaking wet she is. "God, baby, you're so fucking ready, aren't you?" I growl into her neck.

"Christian," she breathes, her head falling back to give me better access to scrape my teeth against her skin. "Please."

We're both panting as I position myself below her. "Here you go, baby..."

* * *

Afterwards, we're curled up on her couch, panting, sweating, but not quite sated. We've already gone three rounds and I know we'll probably go another two before I leave, but for the moment, I'm enjoying just holding her. My chest aches a little as I remember how much I loved holding Ana after making love, how she curled into me, her head resting against my heart.

"So what brought this on?" Lucy asks, looking up at me with her big blue eyes.

I sigh. "Ana and I had another fight," I mumble against her forehead. "Same shit as always. It got to the point we couldn't even be in the same room as one another without sniping, so I left."

Lucy gives me a sad smile and hugs me around the waist. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

I smirk down at her. "Are you?" I ask amusedly.

She returns my amusement. "Well, no, but I am sorry you're hurting. You deserve so much better, Christian..."

My eyes close of their own accord. "Lucy, please don't start this..." I beg her, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I've told you a million times—"

"That you love your wife, that you're going to be with your wife," she recites. "Yes, Christian, you've said this a million times, and yet, you keep coming back to me. Why do you think that is? We both know you're unhappy in your marriage. I understand you don't want to give up on it and that you don't want your son to suffer, but what do you think it's doing to him to see his parents fighting all the time?"

I sigh again. I don't have a good response for this. Of course I've considered ending things with Ana once and for all. It would be better for all of us in the long run to have my relationship with Lucy out in the open. I know Ana would never fight me for half of everything I have; she's never been that type of woman. I think the only disagreement we might have is in regards to custody of Teddy. The best solution I can think of is shared custody—I have him a few days, Ana has him for the others. I hate to do that to my son, but I sure as hell won't be giving him up permanently.

When it comes down to it, though, I don't want my son growing up in a broken home. I do not want to lose my wife. But I don't want to give up Lucy. I'm starting to wonder if I've fallen in love with her. Given my only experience with falling in love has been with Ana, I think I recognize the signs. She's on my mind all the time, even when she shouldn't be—_especially_ when she shouldn't be. I want to see her happy and healthy. I want her to have everything she could want or need in life. She wants _more_ from me, and god dammit, I want to give her _more_. But we both know I can't do that when I'm still married. To Lucy's credit, she's never come right out and asked me to leave my wife for her. She's insinuated that I should, but she's never actually said it. Yet.

"Christian, I'm sorry." I look up from where I've apparently been staring at the floor for the last few minutes to find Lucy looking at me with such regret in her eyes. She pushes herself onto her knees to straddle mine and take my face in her hands. "You're having a bad enough time at home and I'm just making it worse. I'm not trying to push you into anything, baby. I just want to see you happy."

I smile at her and lean forward to kiss her lips. "I know," I reply. "But I'm happy being here with you right now, so let's concentrate on that, shall we?"

She's grinning mischievously now. "And how do you think we should do that, Mr. Grey?" she asks seductively. Before I can respond, she releases my face and adjusted herself before dropping to her knees on the side of the couch, positioning herself between my legs. Within seconds, I'm forgetting about my wife and my troubles again, and giving in to pure pleasure.

* * *

Within two hours, I'm driving home again. I've taken a shower to wash away the scent of sex and any lipstick marks Lucy may have left—there were quite a few, actually, and they were all in places I wouldn't have noticed until it was too late and my wife was calling me out on my lies. I kissed Lucy deeply before I left, and my lips are still tingling.

But as I approach my house, the guilt and self-loathing are starting to set in. My wife has probably spent the last few hours curled up in our bed crying. Our son is young, but he's smart enough to know when his mommy is sad, and he tends not to sleep when Mommy is sad, so Ana has probably been tending to him as well. I should have been with them, tucking my son into his bed, taking my wife in our bed, and falling asleep in her arms.

All my excuses are starting to sound weak, even in my own mind. I need to have the ability to exercise some form of control in my personal life, and though Lucy is not my submissive, I control when I see her and for how long. I'm happy with her. Ana doesn't want me anymore. When we've been fighting, her sex drive is practically non-existent. A man has his needs, doesn't he?

It's all bullshit, and I know it.

I walk into the house and find it dark. With a sigh, I head up to my bedroom and see the outline of my wife in bed, curled up right on the edge of her side. I undress silently and climb into bed, uncertain whether she's awake or not. For a few minutes, I just lie on my side and watch her. The moonlight coming through the windows hits her hair, making it shine and all I want to do is bury my face in it. As carefully as I can manage, I slide across the bed and tentatively place an arm around her waist. I'm shocked when Ana immediately shuffles backwards to press herself against me.

"Christian?" she mumbles sleepily.

"Shh, baby. I'm here," I whisper into her hair.

She sighs and relaxes, pulling my arm more tightly around her. "M'sorry 'bout tonight..."

I fight not to tense, but I can't help the trembling that runs through my body at her words. I hate it when she does this; I've just gotten home from doing something that could and probably would end my marriage before I could even blink a fucking eye, and she's apologizing for our fight earlier tonight. I can't even remember what it was we were fighting about anymore! "Don't worry about it, baby," I whisper to her. "I'm sorry too."

What am I apologizing for? The fight or fucking another woman? I don't even know anymore...


End file.
